Open Your Eyes
by Ashipisawishyourheartmakes
Summary: (Post Civil War) When something goes wrong during Bucky's cryogenic sleep, he must be defrosted. But with Steve off dealing with some demons of his own, Natasha decides to take matters into her own hands.
1. Chapter 1

"Open your eyes."

The voice is silky and dark.

Painfully hot breath is on his cheek, scalding him.

His eyes snap open and struggle to focus on the dark shape hovering above him.

A small girl in a blood stained leotard peers down at him, her face smooth and cold as marble. She looks over her shoulder at the large golden retriever standing on the far side of the room. The dog cocks his head at her. "So far so good," the dog says.

"Can you understand me?" the little girl asks. Her voice is mature and knowing. She sounds like a cup of coffee after a cold night in the trenches. It is not the voice of a child. She leans in closer. Her hair is painfully red.

"Можете ли вы меня понимаете?" She asks again, as her eyes drift across his face.

She sighs and looks at the dog, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

"I thought Banner said that he would be aware of his surroundings once the defrosting was finished. What gives?" the dog asks.

"I'm not sure." the girl murmurs. She produces a thin black object.

It has a bright light that she shines in his eyes.

It hurts.

His eyes water. He does not blink. He keeps them open.

The dog gives a low growl. "The doc should be the one doing this, not us. What do we know about man-cicles?"

The girl shoots the dog a dirty look. "Bruce is occupied. He sent me all the files on the tests he's run. I can text him if things get hairy."

"Great. So we can wait here and see if he is checking his phone this week. That is an excellent plan, Nat."

The dog crosses the room to stand by the girl.

The dog looks down at him.

Tears are trickling down his face. He does not blink. He keeps his eyes open.

The dog growls. "Shit, kid. Close your eyes."

He closes them. He waits.

"Fuck. He's in a bad way. "

"That's why you're here, Barton."


	2. Chapter 2

The next time the voice tells him to open his eyes, the little girl is older.

She smells like cigarettes and Stolichnaya. She is wearing a pale blue hospital gown.

Next to her is a man. He is blonde. He smells like baby powder, and leather, and sweat.

The man smiles gently. "Who are you?" He says in the dog's voice.

 _ɃɄȻƘɎ ɃɅɌȠɆȿ_

 _ȿɆɍɞɆɅȠȾ ɃɅɌȠɆȿ_

 _ɟɅɱɆȿ ɃɄȻɧɅȠɅȠ ɃɅɌȠɆȿ_

 _ȾɧɆ ɅȿȿɆȾ_

 _ȾɧɆ ɰɨȠȾɆɍ ȿɵȽɖɨɆɍ_

 _Дьявол_

The man stares at him, waiting for his answer.

There is none.

The man laughs. "I'm Clint, by the way. That is Nat, with the red hair. "

* * *

 **Real Name:** Clinton Francis Barton

 **Alias(es):** Clint Barton **,** Hawkeye

 **Citizenship:** American

 **Date of Birth:** January 7, 1971

 **Clearance:** Level 7

 **Affiliation:** S.H.I.E.L.D. (former), STRIKE Team: Delta (former) **,** Avengers (former)

 **Status:** Alive

* * *

 **Real Name:** Natalia Alianovna Romanoff

 **Alias(es):** Natasha Romanoff **,** Black Widow **,** Natalie Rushman **,** Tatiana Sokolova **,** Alion Vans **,** Marya Konn **,** Irina Zlataryova

 **Citizenship:** Soviet/Russian **,** American

 **Clearance:** Level 7

 **Affiliation:** KGB (formerly) **,** S.H.I.E.L.D. (formerly) **,** STRIKE (formerly) **,** STRIKE Team: Delta (formerly) **,** Stark Industries (undercover, formerly) **,** Avengers (possibly former)

 **Status:** Alive

* * *

"Your turn," the man prompts "What does your mother call you?"

"J-Jamie." He says. His voice aches from disuse.

The man, Clint, turns and gives the girl, Nat, a triumphant look. The girl, Nat, glares at the man, Clint.

Clint grins wide.

"Okay, Jamie. We need to go make a couple of calls. Why don't you rest up, and we'll be back in a little while."

He, Jamie, watches as Clint gives a lopsided grin, loops his arm around Nat's back and leads her out of the room.

As they go, the air smells like popcorn, engine grease, and shoe polish. Jamie feels… sad?

He closes his eyes. He waits.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time he opens his eyes, the two are arguing.

"No, Nat. I didn't agree to that. It is cruel, and I don't wanna be a part of it."

Nat grabs his arm, stopping him from storming out.

"He can't know. Not yet. It has been three years. We have no idea what kind of lingering effects there might be. Bruce only said he needed to be thawed immediately if there was any chance we could reverse the deterioration. If we tell him, we need to be sure it can be fixed. This could wreck him, Barton. He is not someone we can afford to break."

"Jesus, Natasha. If collateral damage is all you are worried about, imagine what he will do when he finds out you kept this from him- that _we_ kept this from him."

"I know what he'll do. Because I know what I would do. But if we hand him this- this thing- this person with his best friend's face- this shell. It will destroy him, Clint."

She shoots him a searing look.

Clint shifts awkwardly. He clears his throat "Look, Nat. When- when Loki-"

"I fixed it." She barks

Nat snatches her hand from his arm and marches from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Clint turns away from the door and catches Jamie's eye.

"Sorry we woke you. Women. You can't live without them, can't beat them in close quarters combat. She needs to watch her six. I stocked up on shock arrows and I am not afraid to use them. "

Jamie watches Clint warily, unsure which of the two them he owes his allegiance.

Clint sits in the chair next to his bed and pulls out something wrapped in brown paper.

The smell hits him like a bullet.

Chocolate.

Oranges, and candle wax, and a square of his mother's baking chocolate in his pocket as he runs through the cold air. Up the **rusted** fire escape. Cold glass under his palm. White teeth smiling at him.

Chocolate

Shells exploding overhead. Caked in dirt. A package wrapped in brown paper. Familiar scrawl with his name. A large, dark hunk. Carefully wrapped by little, clever hands. A picture a smiling monkey.

Chocolate

Squatting in the snow. Hands shaking with nerves and cold. A warm hand pressing a steaming mug into his hands. A gentle voice teases him. "Blow on it first" he says. Rich, sweet liquid warming his insides.

шоколад

A crying girl in a hospital bed. He sits beside her silently. He pulls out a stolen bar and breaks off a piece. She takes it and stares at him, blood spots on her pale blue hospital gown. He places his cold metal arm across her forehead. She closes her eyes eventually.

Clint holds out a piece to him.

"We took out your feeding tube this morning. You'll have to eat something real later, but in the meantime, I have it on good authority that you like this."

Jamie takes the chocolate.

As it melts in his mouth, he decides that he will protect Clint from Nat.

Clint is kind.


	4. Chapter 4

He opens his eyes and sees her, asleep in the chair next to him.

A man's black jacket is tucked under her chin like a blanket.

He wonders if he is supposed to kill her.

Would Clint like him to do that?

He hopes not.

She feels familiar.

He shifts slightly in the bed and she sits up immediately.

"Don't even think about it," She threatens.

Her tone is bored and she does a huge stretch.

"I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back, naked. Actually- I have. In Akhmerovsky Forest. You dislocated my hip. Now I can always tell when it is going to rain."

She smiles at him- a perfect, practiced, icy smile.

He smiles back.

She laughs. Her laugh is warm.

Her eyes have softened slightly. "Is that how I look? I need more practice."

"I need to speak with you before Barton gets back. He looks tough, but inside he is as soft as a pelmeni."

Jamie nods.

He agrees. Clint is kind.

"If you agree to my terms, it will be much easier to get Barton on board with the plan, okay?"

Jamie nods again.

She seems satisfied. She crosses her legs and leans back. "Do you remember Bucky?"

* * *

 _"_ _Bucky?!"_

 _"_ _Bucky, you've known me your entire life. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes…"_

 _"_ _You're my friend."_

 _"_ _The 107_ _th_ _. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out…"_

 _"_ _You're taking all the stupid with you. "_

 _"_ _I thought you were dead."_

 _"_ _I'm invisible."_

 _"_ _Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in the service of his country."_

* * *

Jamie swallows a lump in his throat. "He-He's dead."

Nat's face doesn't change. "Good. Do you remember Steve?"

* * *

 _"_ _Hey, pick on someone your own size."_

 _"_ _This isn't a back alley, Steve…"_

 _"_ _Don't do anything stupid until I get back."_

 _"…_ _that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight, I'm following him."_

 _"_ _I'm turning into you it's like a horrible dream."_

 _"_ _Inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield…"_

 _"_ _Please don't make me do this…"_

 _"_ _The thing is, you don't have to. I'm with you 'til the end of the line, pal."_

 _"He's my friend."_

 _"I don't know if I'm worth all this, Steve"_

 _"You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?"_

* * *

Jamie struggles to breathe. "Steve. Yes. Steve. I remember Steve."

Nat smiles, her whole face softens.

"How do you feel about Steve, Jamie?"

"I-I need to take care of him. I love him. He needs me. He is too stupid to take care of himself. He's going to get himself killed- why doesn't he ever think?!"

Her smile turns wry.

"We all wonder that sometimes. So, you want to keep Steve safe, right? What would you do to keep him safe?"

Jamie chokes back a sob. "Yes. Anything, anything. What do I need to do? I have to help Steve."

Nat leans in closer. "Okay. We can keep Steve safe, but this is what you have to tell Barton. It's the only way."


	5. Chapter 5

Clint flinches slightly, like he'd been slapped.

"What? I don't think I heard you right."

Clint pulls out a small black device from his ear, fiddles with it, and sticks it back in.

"Say that again."

"Don't tell Steve I am awake. I don't want him to know. I don't want to see him. "

Jamie looks him square in the eye. His face is smooth and impassive, like Nat when she has her walls up. She didn't seem to understand the having no tells was still a tell.

He grabs his coat off the back of the chair and stalks out of the hospital room. He was white-hot with anger. He thrashes around the grounds for a while, before settling down on a bench to call his wife.

She answers on the second ring.

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Hello, Mr. Barton. I was wondering when we would be hearing from you. Lila had her dance recital tonight. She was really hoping you and Nat would be there. "

"I know. Tell her I'm sorry, honey. Natasha's gone a little off the rails with this project and I've gotta keep a close eye on her."

His wife lets out a long-suffering sigh.

"Of course, Clint. I know how important your work is. I just- I thought we talked about you taking a step back from all that. The kids miss you. I miss you. "

He feels a little itchy under the collar. That same persistent restlessness he feels whenever his wife talks about him going civilian. He tries in vain not to scratch.

"I know. Listen, I gotta go. Give the kids love from me and Auntie Nat. Bye."

"Goodbye, Clint" She sighs again and the line goes dead.

A leaf rustles behind him.

A warm hand rests on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry we missed the recital. She was doing so well with her relevé. Don't let them put her on point, though. Her feet will never be the same."

Clint chuckles. "I know. I've seen that mess in your shoes, Nat. I'd be mad at you for eavesdropping, but I know it would only encourage you."

She plops down next to him on the bench, her body heat like a halo around her. They press into each other's sides, ignoring the intimacy of it.

"You seemed too angry to be reasoned with, so I figured I'd let Laura defuse that bomb before I tried to talk to you."

"Yeah. Well, we're both very lucky that she is a saint."

She laughs- her real, warm laugh. "The woman is an angel. " She agrees.

Clint hides his smile, settling on his serious business face.

"I know you got into that kid's head in there. I'll respect his wishes for now, but not telling Steve feels wrong. And I thought I'd convinced to only use your powers for good. You can't go around manipulating the weak and mentally ill, just to get your own way. I know you're better than that, Natasha."

Nat gives him a sad smile.

"I know you think that, Barton. That's why I keep you around."

She squeezes his hand once and then heads back into the facility.

Clint stays out on the bench for a while.

He stares at the stars and thinks about how dangerous Nat would be if she ever believed in her own goodness the way he did. It was probably best for everyone that she had a healthy sense of guilt.


	6. Chapter 6

The next time Jamie opens his eyes, his mother is standing at the end of the bed.

Her dark hair has streaks of silver, and is shorter than he's ever seen it. She is wearing a pair of light trousers and a blue fuzzy sweater. She smiles at him the way she did the last time he saw her. He was itchy. She had over starched his dress uniform. She smelled like yeast, cinnamon, and apples. She had refused to hug him- she didn't want to get any flour on him. Her warm, dark eyes were glossy with tears.

"Ma?" Jamie asks.

She makes a strangled sound and a couple of tears slip down her cheeks.

"You look just like James." She says quietly "I didn't think you would look so much like him."

"Thank you for coming, Ruth. Have a seat." Nat has appeared quietly at his mother's side, and guides her into a chair.

Clint is leaning against the back wall, near the door. He watches with stony silence.

Nat sits on the other side of his bed. She places a hand near his leg, careful not to touch him. "Jamie, we have run some tests and you are doing very well, physically. We think it would be best for your recovery if you were moved out of the facility." She gestures to his mother, who gives him that watery smile again. "Ruth has agreed to let you come home with her. She lives in the Fordham area. She has a spare room and would like you to come stay with her for a while."

"Her name is Winifred," He says firmly "Quit calling my ma Ruth."

Clint makes a noise that sounds like being strangled in the dark.

Jamie shoots him a worried look.

Clint is unharmed.

He looks back at his mother, who has started to cry in earnest.

"It's okay, Ma. Is Becca here with you? I'll go get her. Don't cry Ma."

He tries to get out of bed.

Clint rushes to hold him down.

Clint flies across the room, cracking the observation window.

Clint struggles to his feet. "This is a bad idea, Natasha! He isn't ready for this! We aren't ready for this! You're being ridiculous! This isn't how you do it, Nat. Did I make you live in a ballet studio above a borscht shop?! NO! That is crazy. This is crazy. This woman just lost her son. Three months ago, Nat. Three. And now you think the best option for everyone is to move an extremely unwell man, who happens to be her uncle, into her dead son's bedroom. In what world is this a good plan, Nat?!-"

Clint's tirade is interrupted by Ruth putting her arms around Jamie's shoulders and squeezing him to her tightly.

"He is coming home with me. End of Discussion." She gave Jamie a fierce kiss on the forehead.

"Call me Ruthie, sweetheart." She whispers.

Clint gives Nat a hard look, and walks out of the room. Nat trails after him, talking in a soft voice about Clint's broken wrist.

Ruthie tells him to go to sleep.

He closes his eyes.

She hums something that sounds like home.


	7. Chapter 7

Sometime later, Clint wakes him up.

He has a tray with chicken soup and a piece of pie that smells like goodbye.

Clint sits beside Jamie quietly while he eats. Clint is covered in bandages. His face is bruised and his lip is bloody.

"You are injured." Jamie observes, mouth full of cinnamon, apples, and regret.

Clint runs a weary hand through his hair. "Yeah, kiddo. I am."

The Asset's eyes narrow, assessing damage. "Specify."

Clint stands up and points "Well. I got a broken wrist, three cracked ribs, a torn ligament near my rotator cuff- and according to my beautiful partner a "major concussion." I told her to shut her pretty face. That's how I got this bruise."

He rolls up his sleeve. There is a large black bruise on his right deltoid.

"She is going to have her boyfriend irradiate my brain later. If he can be bothered to show up."

Sergeant Barnes runs a practiced eye over his CO's injuries. Shame fills his nostrils with gun powder, and the smell of damp wool.

"I'm sorry, sir. The incident was entirely my fault. I am prepared to accept any discipline you think is appropriate for my insubordination."

He tries his charming smile, but his face can't seem to manage it.

Clint sits back down with a heavy sigh. "Don't worry about it, soldier. I take full responsibility. I was outta line. I never should have grabbed you. I remember when I brought Nat home with me, she woke up yelling because her hand fell asleep during the night, and she had stabbed what she thought was a stranger's hand. Blood everywhere. Luckily, Laura had taken the kids to her mother's place."

Clint's nostalgic smile fades. He sets aside the dinner tray and leans closer to Jamie.

"Look, kid. I need to know where your head's at. I think Nat is taking all this a little personal, and she isn't giving enough attention to the big picture here."

Jamie nods. He agrees. Nat seems very invested in her plan.

"Okay, let's start with the basics kid. What year do you think this is?"

Jamie thinks for a moment. "1934?" He asks, cautiously.

Clint shakes his head.

Sergeant Barnes squares his shoulder. "1943." He says, voice resolute.

Clint closes his eyes, shaking his head again.

The Asset glares at him. "1946." It growls.

Clint puts his head in his hands, letting out a muffled "no".

Дьявол studies the weak spot in the man's defenses. His spine is exposed. It could finish this easily.

"год вашей смерти"

Clint lifts his head. "Wait. What?"

The Winter Soldier stares through him. "According to the western calendar, the year is 2019." It says, voice flat.

"Th-that's right. Good." Clint has a small pad of paper out, jotting down notes.

The Winter Soldier closes its eyes and waits for orders.


	8. Chapter 8

When Clint opens his eyes, it feels like he's been hit with Mjolnir. A cold, wet cloth is on his face. He lets out a groan, which is a mistake. The vibration of the groan _hurts_. He hears his partner's throaty laugh.

"You passed out. I came in and found you on the floor of our patient's room. Don't worry though. Our incredibly dangerous assassin didn't escape."

She moves the cloth off his face and smirks at him.

She is practically glowing.

"Tasha," He breathes.

She frowns at his tone.

"Hey, gorgeous." He grins at her and tries to touch her face.

With a speed that makes him dizzy, his hands are suddenly strapped to the bed rails.

Her frown deepens.

She produces a pen light from her pocket. She tells him sternly not to blink as she shines the light in his eyes. It _hurts_.

"это пиздец, Что случилось с вашим мозгом?"

She mutters, walking away from him.

She pulls out her phone, swearing when it goes to voicemail. "Мудак! ... Hi Bruce, this is Tasha again. I think Clint is really hurt. I called you earlier about this concussion and you said you could come help with the scans or whatever- He just- it seems like it is getting worse. What is your ETA? Just- call me back, okay?"

She hangs up and just stares down at the phone. That is how Natasha panics. She freezes and stares. She doesn't breathe. It had taken Clint two missions to notice when they first became partners. A live grenade had been thrown into a bunker with them. She had frozen and stared at it. Clint had thrown her across the room and slammed himself on top of her. After the explosion, he noticed she wasn't breathing. She stared up at him, unblinking. She could somehow panic herself out of existence.

"Nat?" He asks. His head hurts, he feels like he might throw up, and his partner is panicking for some reason.

She gasped and squared her shoulders.

"Right. I need help."

She throws one last look at Clint and is gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**"желание"**

 _"_ _Captain" she breathes. Steve is staring at Peggy. His eyes are hot and his smile easy. "I'm invisible…" Bucky takes a gulp of the burning whiskey, and signals for more._

 **"ржавый"**

 _Bucky climbs up the fire escape, his hands coated in orange powder. He taps on the window and peers in. Steve smiles._

 **"семнадцать"**

 _It is Bucky's birthday. Steve told him he has a surprise for him after school. Bucky breaks up with Lillian so he can have the night free._

 **"рассвет"**

 _A half an hour after walking away from Steve, Bucky tell the girls to buzz off. It is his last night in New York, and he wants to spend it with his best friend. He goes to all their usual haunts. He walks for hours. The sun starts to rise. He swears, and trudges to his muster point._

 **"печь"**

 _Bucky cuts class and meets Sally Stapleton in the boiler room at school. They are going after each other like cats in heat. Suddenly a cool breeze hits his back. Steve is standing in the doorway, glaring at them. Bucky jumps away from Sally, and tries to pull his pants back up. Steve leaves quickly. Bucky scrabbles after him. Steve doesn't speak to him for a week._

 **"девять"**

 _Bucky's father tells him "You and that Rodgers boy need to stop holding hands with each other. Neighbors are starting to talk. You'll be 10 in six months. Start acting like a man." Bucky tells Steve that they need to be manlier, or they can't be friends anymore. Steve picks a fight with a couple of 9_ _th_ _graders._

 **"добросердечный"**

 _Bucky wakes up to the sound of his parents fighting. There is the sound of glass breaking. His mother yells "They are just children, it is harmless!" He brings home Agnes to meet his father the next day. His mother looks relieved._

 **"возвращение на родину"**

 _Bucky is strapped to a gurney. Everything hurts. He has been in and out of consciousness for days. He doesn't understand a lot of German, but they seem to keep calling him "Weapon"._

 _Suddenly Steve is there. He came to find him. He is going to bring him home._

 **"один"**

 _Steve is in love with that woman. She might be the only woman Bucky has even seen Steve talk to. Bucky drinks and stays close to Steve. At least she isn't allowed in the Commandos._

 **"грузовой вагон"**

 _Bucky is falling. It feels like hours. He watches Steve's face get smaller and smaller. Steve is screaming, but Bucky can't hear him._

* * *

The Winter Soldier looks at the woman in front of It. She stares back at It, her hand fisted in her red hair.

"Awaiting orders." It says.

"Right. Do you know how to work an MRI?" the woman asks.

"I do." It had posed as a doctor during a mission. It had been trained on all relevant equipment.

"Great, follow me." She walks briskly out of the room, leading them down a darkened hallway, into another brightly lit hospital suite.

"Help me get him on a cart."

It helps her move the target onto a metal gurney.

She leads them to an elevator, which takes them to a large lab in the basement.

It pushed the gurney towards the MRI machine. The woman sprints around turning on electrical generators, and lights.

Together they get the target placed in the machine. The woman tells It that they are looking for swelling in the brain. She babbles.

"I got him all checked out- but then he was being really weird. Like two bottles of Scotch weird. Bruce called me back about some test results, and I mentioned it to him. He did the "hm". You know the "hm" he does before everything sucks. He said to keep an eye on Clint, told me what to look for. But Clint swore he was fine. He brought you dinner and the next thing I know he is passed out on the floor. This is Bruce Banner's goddamn secret mad scientist facility! The least he could do is come run this goddamn scan." She lets out a breath as she steps away from the machine. "I am really sorry about powering you up, but I remembered you being good at medical things- you put my hip back into place pretty easily after you dislocated it- and Bruce won't answer his fucking phone-"

She slumps in a nearby wheelchair, watching as the Winter Soldier performed the scan.

It confirms her fears. The target is exhibiting some minor intracranial edema.

Her face grows very white.

"Can you fix it here? No one is supposed to know this place exists. Flying one of Starks Heli-ambulances is our worst case contingency."

The Winter Soldier glances around the lab. "Affirmative."


	10. Chapter 10

When Clint wakes up, he is underwater.

And he is fucking cold.

There is a black plastic hose hooked up to a mask covering his nose & mouth, with oxygen lines running out of it.

Ice cubes bob in the water around him, brushing his skin.

It looks like he is floating in a vertical glass tank.

A familiar face leans in and taps on the glass.

The dark haired man gives a jaunty little wave at Clint.

Clint tries not to roll his eyes.

Bruce holds up a finger as he finishes reading something on a clipboard.

He give Clint a cheeky thumbs up.

Suddenly there is something wonderfully warm flowing in from his IV and Bruce Banner is his favorite person in the whole world.

40 minutes later he is on a soft bed tucked under at least ten fluffy blankets.

Bruce hands him a steaming mug.

"Chamomile" He says, with a shrug of self-deprecation.

Clint doesn't give a crap, as long as it will melt the ice in his veins.

"Tasha did pretty well. They rigged my sensory deprivation tank to put you in a state of artificial hypothermia. Then they pumped you full of pure oxygen and let your body do the rest. I have to say, I'm kind of impressed. Your labs are all reading normal. I'll run a cognitive assessment since I am here, but I really wouldn't worry."

Clint swallows hard, trying to ease the soreness in his throat. "They?" he asks, voice scratchy.

Bruce smiles placidly, "Oh, your throat. Here, take these lozenges. Intubation is no walk in the park."

Clint frowns a little and tries again. "They?" he asks, louder this time.

After they had gotten Ruth safely extracted from the area, he and Nat had been the only two people in the facility, other than-

"No."

Bruce smiles and says nothing.

"No. No, no."

Bruce lifts his hands in a signal of surrender.

"It was her call. She thought it was necessary to activate-"

"SHE ACTIVATED HIM?!" Clint feels like his head is going to explode.

Bruce lays a comforting hand on his knee.

"I get it, man. Not an ideal situation. But is does grant us a unique opportunity to study his programming from the inside."

"He is still activated? How long was I out?" Clint takes a deep breath and does not think about shooting his partner.

Bruce picks up a clipboard and glances through. "hm… Looks like two weeks."

Clint flings back his blankets and pulls on a pair of sweats.

"Where. Is. She." He growls.

Bruce smile at him again, but it isn't as placid this time. "Oh. Well. Training, I guess."

Clint takes a another deep breath and thanks Bruce for coming.

The last thing they need to bring into the mix is the Big Guy.

Then he follows the clang of metal on metal.


	11. Chapter 11

Natasha rips off her blindfold as something grazes her hair.

She catches a glint of silver in her peripheral vision. Barton is lining up another arrow.

"Shit."

She dives out of the way, crawling into a bush for cover.

She sees The Winter Soldier take off in Clint's direction.

"NO! Stand down."

The effect is instantaneous.

The soldier freezes in place, crumpling to his knees and going totally still.

Well, at least that is one threat neutralized.

She crawls out the other side of the bush, looking for a way to gain some higher ground.

An arrow pins her right glove to the dirt.

"Damn it, Barton! Can we just talk about this like adults?"

He doesn't respond. He just moves off to find a better angle.

He must be really mad.

Barton can't seem to stop himself from engaging in banter normally.

Natasha runs for the far wall, intent on shimming up the drain pipe.

Clint drops down in front of her, arrow notched.

"Come on, Barton! I don't want to hurt you."

He lets loose a shock arrow that catches her boot.

"I guess I can hurt you a little." Natasha launches herself at him. She catches him around the midsection using the momentum to swing around behind him. She throws her legs up over his hips, using his own weight against him. As they fall to the ground she rolls under him, shielding his head and neck. He is on top of her then. He grabs furiously for her wrists, trying to immobilize her hands. She hooks a leg over his shoulder and flips them again. She straddles he waist and shoves his bow up under his chin, pinning him. They stay like that for a while, panting and glaring at each other.

"You're an idiot." He says, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket, trying to drag her off of him.

"You're the archer who sacrificed the high ground." She spits, digging the toes of her boots more firmly into the ground. She refuses to budge.

Clint gestures to the kneeling pile of soldier across the courtyard.

"Undo it."

She glares down at him, and then looks where he indicated.

"I don't know how." She hisses.

Clint takes advantage of her momentary distraction and shoves her over onto her back. Hard. He pins her legs under his, his hands like vises on her wrists.

He leans very close to her face, his breathing still heavy. "You had better figure it out." He growls.

They are breathing too loudly.

All she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears, and the sound of their gasps for air.

"I will. I promise." She vows, desperate for him to release her.

Clint gives her a look of grim satisfaction and rolls off of her.

They both lay there in the grass, struggling to breathe. After a moment, a calloused wraps tightly around her own.

"Thank you for saving me" He whispers.

"навсегда" She whispers back.


	12. Chapter 12

Steve's eyes snap open.

The cave he camped in is vibrating with the bone rattling wail of an air raid siren. He flings himself out of bed and gropes in the dark for his shield.

"Gabe! Morita! Get on the horn, find out where this is coming from! "

He is crawling, hands sweeping the floor, panic fluttering in his chest.

"Monty, I can't find my shield!"

His hands find the edges of his wool blanket. There is a little blue star embroidered in one corner. Bucky had a French woman from a nearby village do it as a joke.

 _"_ _Now your blanket is upgraded too. Making all the other blankets feel like sissies."_

When they made camp, Steve always hid the star under the edge of Bucky's blanket, so the other commandos didn't think he was putting on airs.

His hands scrambled across the cold stone. Nothing. No other soft pile of wool.

"DUMDUM! Where is Sergeant Barnes? I can't find him!"

His frantic hand hits something small and rectangular.

 _"_ _Satellite phone"_ his brain supplies.

 _"_ _I know there are things that you need to do, Rodgers, but please keep this with you. I need to know that we can reach you in case anything happens." Natasha shoved the black rectangle in his hand, along with a handwritten note explaining how to use it._

 _"_ _I told Tony if the Avengers ever need me, I'll be there- but I just need to go off the grid for a while. You understand right, Nat?" Steve tried to turn away but Natasha pressed the phone into his hand harder. "What about Bucky?" She demanded._

His shaking hands open up the phone. The cave goes silent.

"H-hello? Steve Rogers speaking."

"Hiya Steve, this is Bruce. How's it going?"

In the past 24 hours, Steve had killed two men with his bare hands. He had gotten the third to give up the information by threatening to kill the man's dog and eat it in front of him.

"I've been better. You know how it is. "

The line goes quiet for a moment.

"Yeah, man. I do, I do. So listen, Steve, we-ah- we need your help with something, buddy."

Steve's whole body fills with dread. "Is this about Bucky? Are you in Wakanda? I can be there in 10 hours-"

Bruce cuts him off with a heavy sigh. "No. No, you don't need to come. Everything is under control, okay? We just, we noticed a dip in his neurotransmitter levels. We thawed him out and placed him in an artificial coma, okay? So- uh, what we need from you is a… um recording. Of you, talking about Bucky. We think some familiar stimulus will help stabilize his brain activity- especially the serotonin, dopamine and oxytocin levels. We can record you right now over the phone. There isn't any reason for you to interrupt your… schedule. You cool with that Steve?"

Steve debates for a moment.

He should insist on being there if Bucky isn't in that man-sized icebox anymore. But if they were keeping him unconscious, maybe Steve's time would be better spent tearing apart the last remnants of the KGB and HYDRA networks that had made Bucky like this in the first place.

"You're sure you don't need me there? None of my _errands_ are more important than being there for Bucky. "

Bruce hums low in his throat. A female voice hisses something Steve can't quite catch. Another male voice rumbles something, and there is a clatter like a dropped mess tray.

Bruce talks a little louder over the sound of clanging metal and breaking glass.

"We're sure. Sorry about the noise-uh, Tasha just… she's fighting with an orderly. Not sure why- Okay so let's get to that recording. Gimme one second."

There is some more racket, and then Bruce's voice saying clearly "You two are starting to piss me off."

The silence is immediate.

"Okay, sorry about that Steve. I have the equipment all set up on my end, so you can go ahead and start recording whenever you are ready."

Steve's throat feels tight. His face is hot and his hands are sweating.

"What do you need me to say?"

"Just tell us what you remember most about Bucky. What was he like?"

Steve clears his throat a few times, and then starts to speak.


	13. Chapter 13

The Winter Soldier looks up when Its Handler speaks.

"Come on, we need to do one more debriefing."

It follows Her into a fortified interrogation room.

In the past 346 hours, She spent 200 listening to reports.

She only stopped to eat, train, and check on the Target's condition.

It estimated She had slept no more than 17 of the remaining hours.

This made the Its Handler vulnerable to attack.

At hour 340, the Target had emerged from the building, firing projectiles at Its Handler.

The Winter Soldier had attempted to eradicate the Target, but the Handler had not permitted It to do so.

After a few moments it became clear that the Target had not real intention of harming Her.

The Handler and the Target had engaged in a violent pre-coital ritual.

They disengaged, and lay prone on the grass for exactly 42 minutes.

They had approached It.

She had spoken a string of words.

These caused It pain.

She argued with the Target for 15 minutes.

She told It not to move.

She told It not to fight back.

She left and came back with a large pipe.

Its head was ringing.

This went on for approximately 8 minutes.

The Target told the Handler to stop.

She asked the Winter Soldier for Its status.

"Not moving. Defense disabled. Awaiting orders."

She was displeased.

The Target was displeased.

"I told you it wouldn't work. I've tried every code word- every language. I've waterboarded him, done electroshock- I don't know what else to do, Clint!"

Its Handler shouted at the Target and threw the pipe across the courtyard.

The Target stuck his finger aggressively in Her face.

"Don't even think about crying. You don't cry. C'mon, Tasha. Calm down. It's okay. Shhh.. we'll fix it." The Target held his hands out toward Her, but didn't touch Her.

"I hate to see you like this.." the Target murmured, still not touching Her.

The Target abruptly looked pleased.

"I don't think it was the cognitive recalibration, Nat. I need to go run something by Bruce. Be right back." His hands clenched in Her direction, then he fled.

Its Handler looked worried and instructed It to follow her inside.

She told It to wait in the hallway for her to return.

The Winter Soldier waited for 4 hours.

Its Handler had reemerged from the laboratory with the Target and-

* * *

 **Real Name:** Robert Bruce Banner

 **Alias:** Bruce Banner, Hulk, The Incredible Hulk, David B, The Big Guy, The Other Guy

 **Species:** Human

 **Citizenship:** American

 **Date of Birth:** December 18, 1969

 **Title:** Doctor

 **Affiliation:** Culver University Staff (former), Avengers (former)

 **Status:** Alive

* * *

A Doctor.

The Doctor held a Kingston Digital 64GB Data Traveler USB 3.0 Flash Drive in one hand and smiled vaguely as he walked ahead of the other two.

Pupils dilated, hands clenched, abnormal levels of perspiration.

The Doctor's sympathetic nervous system was engaged.

Unclear if it was excitement or anger.

"I am really interested to see if your theory checks out, Clint." The Doctor stated.

His pheromone levels were spiking.

Possible threat identified.

"Come on, we need to do one more debriefing."

They are all seated in the fortified interrogation room.

Its Handler straps the Winter Soldier into a chair in front of a projector screen.

The Doctor surreptitiously fires a pneumatic jet injector into his own carotid artery.

30% decrease in the Doctor's muscle tension observed.

The Target leans against the back wall.

Target's face is flushed and avoids eye contact with the Handler.

Its Handler speaks softly to It.

"We are going to put some pictures up on the screen and play a recording for you to listen to, okay?"

It understands. It nods.

They dim the lights.

On the screen is a picture.

A pale, slender boy with eyes like fire stares back at him.

This is followed by an enlistment form.

Designation 4F.

"Paramus?" The Winter Soldier says, eye glued to the screen.

A voice begins to speak.

The voice is distressed. The voice needs assistance. The voice is angry.

"I- I know that voice." It says, looking at Its Handler.


	14. Chapter 14

Bruce closes his eyes.

He can feel spikes of jealousy pricking at the back of his throat.

 _Of course_ Clint was right.

It was extremely similar to his own private theory, the one he had designed the Lullaby around.

Bucky's condition is so similar to to his own, he feels stupid for not putting the pieces together.

Both Bruce and Bucky get pushed out of their own minds, only to be replace by something other.

Just like what Loki had done to Clint with the Teseract.

He swallows hard.

The growing itch under his fingernails is drowning out the sound of Steve's voice.

He fumbles for another cartridge of his expiremental sedative.

His hands shake as he loads the jet injector and shoots it into his leg, under the table.

He muffles a hiss.

He knew coming here was a mistake.

He had been checking on Bucky periodically, and when the synaptic anomaly had arisen, he had contacted Natasha. She'd asked him what could be done, and he had relented to her fluttering eyelashes and honey-sweet smile.

So he had offered her the use of his secret lab.

Like, so secret not even Stark knew it existed.

He had overseen the thawing process, and he had put the patient into an artificial coma for transit himself.

He had gotten everything prepared, and then went up to the courtyard to await her arrival.

She had stepped out of the chopper laughing wildly, with Clint in tow.

Clint had grinned a sunny grin at him and cracked a joke about Bruce's mysterious absences.

Bruce smiled his most placid smile and thought hard about how much he liked Clint.

He really, really liked Clint.

Alive Clint is _much_ better than Dead Clint.

Don't hurt Clintdon'thurtclintdonthurtclint-

After that he had given them a rushed tour of the facility, blurted out a handful of instructions, assured them he could be reached via text, and left as quickly as possible.

Other than a few consultations about test results, he didn't hear from Natasha for almost two months.

Then she just texted him _"Call Me"_

He did, thinking she wanted to discuss the protein levels she had texted earlier.

Instead she told him Bucky threw Clint into a wall earlier, and now Clint was hitting on her.

 _"_ _I mean more than is normal. More than the two weeks we poised as a couple to infiltrate a Honeymoon resort."_

Bruce had blurted something about head trauma and hung up the phone.

She called him four times in the next two hours.

Bruce had abandoned his phone in his hotel room and had gone for a very long run.

When he got back to the room he had a curt text from her saying she had everything under control for now, but she would appreciate a call when he had a chance.

He meditated for four days.

He finally called her back and she explained in greater detail what had happened.

He agreed to join her there and help monitor the situation.

When Clint had woken up, Bruce thought that he had overreacted to the whole thing.

Until the two of them started bickering like teenagers.

Until Clint had haltingly explained a way he thought they could deactivate Bucky.

Until Clint said in the vaguest, most evasive, most neutral terms the thing Bruce had always suspected.

Bruce stands up abruptly and gives the whole room the blandest smile in his repertoire.

"Well, looks like you two have things under control here. I… have to leave, so- okay- glad you aren't dead, Clint. Tasha, it was n-nice to see you, but- I gotta- Okay, bye guys."

He walks quickly from the room before anyone can react.

He rounds the corner and jogs up a set of stairs, the muffled sound of Steve's voice echoing behind him.


End file.
